User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March Original/@comment-3135907-20130628155739/@comment-3135907-20150422180131

Feffle peers out with the Captain. Across the beach and clear up into the dunes, the sands are completely hidden by a sea of tents. Campfires and torches on stakes burn slowly, giving the massive camp a warm glow. Vermin can be heard chunnering and some squabbling over morsels of food all across the tidelines and flatlands, each campfire having anywhere from a half dozen to a score of vermin crouched around it, cloaks pulled tight to ward off the evening chill.